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Authors: Rebecca York

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BOOK: Beyond Fearless
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WHEN
Zach let go of Anna, she put her feet down in sand, then followed him onto a brilliant white beach. He moved from the sand to the vegetation beyond and sat down heavily, breathing hard.

“Thank you,” she whispered, joining him on the grass and rolling toward him, pressing her body against his in the most basic of gestures.

Heat flared, fired by the connection between them—and the knowledge that they'd made it to dry land after their ordeal.

They rocked together, and she felt arousal swamp her. They were alive and safe. And together.

His arms slackened around her. Questioningly, she raised her head and saw the fatigue etched on his face.

I'm too tired to be any good to you,
he murmured into her mind.

Of course. I wasn't thinking. You'd be too tired for sex. I mean…

Damn, every thought that popped into her head winged its way straight to him. They didn't just have to be careful what they said around each other, they had to start with their thoughts.

He managed a laugh. “No insult taken. I know what you meant.”

“I'm rested. You're not, because you've been doing all the work.”

“I'll recover.”

He lay back, closing his eyes, breathing evenly.

And she relaxed beside him, knowing they would make love soon. For now, she was glad the cool wind helped dampen some of the fire playing over her skin.

 

RAOUL
knelt before the altar, asking for Ibena's help. She had been with him like a soul mate on this journey. And he thanked her for that. Or was he being too full of himself when he needed her help now—more desperately than ever? Was that the problem?

“The plane went down, and I've lost her. But I can feel her spirit. I know she's not dead. Help me find her again, and I will honor you all my days. I promise on my life.”

He had already dedicated another chicken to the ceremony. A lot of chickens. He'd have to replenish his supply.

Then he brought his mind back to his urgent need. For information. For more than information.

Anna—his Anna—was with another man.

Blood fire!

He must sever that connection and bring her body and soul into his own keeping.

“Help me find her. Help me kill him,” he murmured.

 

WHEN
Zach sat up again, Anna asked, “Where are we?”

“I don't know. But I'll find out.”

He untied the bag from around his waist and set it on the grass at the edge of the beach, then looked up at the palm trees around him. He picked one that was leaning over more than the others, then started toward the top, using his hands and bare feet to propel himself upward.

Apparently he'd done it before, because he went up the tree almost as fast as a monkey. And that was after a long swim through the Caribbean.

She might have laughed at his performance, but the situation was much too serious.

At the top of the tree, he found a secure position, then held on with one hand, shading his eyes with the other as he looked in all directions.

Anna watched him anxiously. “What do you see?”

“Just a minute.”

When he came down, his expression was grim.

“What?”

“As far as I can tell, this isn't Grand Fernandino. It's a small island in the middle of nowhere.”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

THE MOMENT ZACH
spoke, he wished he'd thought of a better way to put it.
Way to go, telling her we're stranded in the middle of nowhere.

“It's the truth,” she answered. “I need to know the truth.”

“Shit.”

This time, you're the one who's upset about too much togetherness?

He couldn't deny it, not when she could read his thoughts. “I'll learn to deal with that,” he muttered. “So will you.”

She switched back to the previous topic. “If we're stranded in the middle of the Caribbean, what are we going to do?”

He looked toward the horizon. They still had a few hours of daylight left. But not many.

“Find shelter.”

“Like where?

“Somebody lives here. Or they used to. From the treetop, I saw a house back that way.” He pointed toward a spot that was hidden by vegetation.

She eyed the jungle. “How are we going to find it?”

“I think we can walk along the beach. Most people don't build too far from the water.”

He picked up the bag of stuff he'd managed to liberate from the plane, glad that he hadn't abandoned the supplies in the water. The long swim had made him hungry. Reaching inside the bag, he sorted through the contents and pulled out two protein bars.

“We should eat something.”

She accepted a bar from him, and they munched the food slowly as they walked along the hard-packed sand.

When he slung the bag over his right shoulder, Anna came up on the left and clasped his hand so that he felt the undercurrent of communication between them. But they were both tired, and it was easier to speak in words.

“First we find shelter. Then we can make love.” It felt good to say the words. Then he laughed.

“What?”

“I was thinking—be careful what you wish for. I wanted to be alone with you. And here we are.”

“We'll worry about…the details later. Maybe we can lash together a raft and get off the island.”

“Sure.”

Anna let her shoulder rub against his, the skin-to-skin contact making his shoulder tingle.

“Don't distract me,” he murmured.

“From what?”

“Checking out the area.”

She moved away a little, and they kept walking up the beach, staying on the hard-packed sand where it was easier to walk.

Beyond the beach was a stretch of wild grass, then a tangle of vegetation.

They came to a place where water tumbled down rocks, forming a small waterfall before it flowed across the sand and into the sea.

“That's a relief,” he said.

“What?”

“Fresh water.”

She hadn't even thought about the fact that they might not have anything to drink.

“On a lot of islands, people have to collect rainwater,” he added.

“I guess I've always taken civilization for granted.”

He eyed the stream, then pulled at his shorts. “We're still wet. We might as well wash the salt water off.”

“Okay.”

He put down his bag of booty and pulled off his remaining clothing—his shorts.

He was naked and magnificent, and she angled slightly away, determined not to let herself get turned on again until they were somewhere where they could do something about it.

When he stepped under the water, he grimaced.

“Cold?” she called out.

“Yeah. But it feels good.”

The waterfall was small, and she let him finish washing. When he got out, she took off her shirt, bra, and panties, then stepped under, wincing at the cold. But he was right. It did feel good to wash the salt out of her hair and off her body.

When she climbed out, Zach offered her a thin towel. “From the emergency pack. See, it's coming in handy already.”

She used the towel, then pulled on her damp clothing again. “Have you been stranded before?”

“Once my engines cut out, and I spent a few days on an uninhabited island. But I had a radio, and I could call for help.”

Ahead of them was a dock with gray, aging boards jutting out into the water. Looking beyond it, she saw a house in the distance.

“If someone's home, they're not expecting visitors. And they could be armed,” he warned.

“Right.”

They walked beside the dock, heading into the jungle. The closer they got to the house, the more it looked like the place had been abandoned. At one time the grounds had been landscaped with ornamental trees and shrubs and flowering plants. Now the tropical vegetation was hugging the foundation—and in some cases growing close to the second story.

They stepped onto a wide patio, where weeds grew between decorative tiles.

“This is quite a place.”

“Well, it was.”

Sliding glass doors ran along the side of the house, and one of them was broken by a tree limb that had fallen through it. But there was no glass on the ground.

Zach peered at the patio and inside to the tile floor. “It looks like somebody cleaned up.”

She shaded her eyes with her hand as she looked upward. The rest of the tree was leaning against the house and looked like it had broken through the roof.

“Probably hurricane damage,” Zach said as he drew his knife.

“Are you expecting trouble?” she whispered.

“I'm trying to be prepared. Stay behind me.”

 

FOR
Raoul, the energy to stay with Anna was a terrible drain on his system. But he forced himself to do it.

As he knelt with his eyes closed, an image formed behind his closed lids. He saw a large white house, stark and modern, with the jungle closing in around it.

Was it real? Or was he making it up?

He squeezed his hands into fists, focusing his mind on the scene, and he saw Anna and the man with sun-streaked hair standing on a weedy patio.

His image of Anna was clear, because his main connection was to her. The man's features were still blurry.

Anna looked bedraggled. But, thank the saints, she seemed to be all right otherwise.

The man stepped up to a sliding door, a door with the glass missing. Then he disappeared from the scene.

 

ANNA
followed Zach into a large, empty room with a sizeable fireplace and a few pieces of furniture pushed forlornly against the walls. The pieces were hefty. A dining table. A buffet. An entertainment unit.

Big sheets of fabric covered something at one side of the room. When she pulled up a corner of the covering, she saw a wide sectional sofa.

“Why did they leave this stuff?” Anna asked.

“They probably needed a bigger boat to remove the oversized pieces.”

Down the hall was a spacious kitchen with granite countertops and a large eating area.

Behind a set of double doors was a pantry, where rows of cans still sat on the shelves.

“We do have some food.”

“If you want soup,” she answered.

“Better than sea cucumber.”

She grimaced. “That's supposed to be disgusting. You've eaten it?”

“Don't ask.”

He stepped into a utility room and gestured toward some cases of bottled water, then began opening drawers.

“Look at this.”

She hurried to join him and found what amounted to a treasure. Someone had stuffed a bunch of shirts and shorts inside. Another drawer held tablecloths.

He pulled one of the shirts out, held it up, and sniffed the fabric. It smelled clean.

“Nice of someone to leave these for us.”

“Yes.”

He handed Anna some navy shorts and a long-sleeved shirt of white fabric, made for the tropical climate. She stripped off her wet shirt, bra, and panties and quickly pulled on the dry garment, looking around as she did.

“What?”

“I feel like someone's watching us.”

He followed her gaze. “You're just nervous.”

“I guess,” she said, still sensing an unwanted gaze on her. The tails of the shirt hung almost to her knees, and the sleeves were much too long, so she rolled them up.

Zach pulled out another shirt and buttoned it up. Then he climbed into shorts that were a size too big for him.

“It's nice to be wearing something that isn't damp,” he commented.

“Yes.”

He dumped out the emergency pack onto the kitchen counter. “We've got soap, toothpaste and toothbrushes, toilet paper, a flashlight—all the comforts of home.”

They went back to the large, open room in the center of the house, and he stared up at the long stairway and the balcony that overlooked the first level. The ceiling was extra high, making the second floor a story and a half above the first floor.

 

RAOUL
was still in the shed behind his art gallery, kneeling before the altar, and his knees were red and sore. But he held the position on the wooden platform because he was thinking that the pain would be another offering to Ibena.

He'd watched with pleasure as Anna had stripped off her clothing. Her breasts were lovely. Her hips a little narrow for child bearing. But if she needed a cesarean to bear his children, that would be no problem in the island hospital. Or did he want to share her with a child? He'd have to think about that.

Maybe she felt his presence, because she'd quickly pulled on the shirt and a pair of shorts.

Then she and the man continued looking around the abandoned house.

He was hoping that their exploration would give him an opportunity. He didn't know what it was yet, but he was open to any possibility Ibena offered.

Where was the house? Somewhere on Grand Fernandino? If so, it wasn't anywhere near Palmiro, or near the area where he'd grown up, because he would surely recognize it.

It could be on a smaller island. Nearby, he hoped.

Maybe if he described the place, someone would recognize the property.

He followed Anna and the devil man as they walked around the empty building. It looked forlorn.

Was it haunted?

Raoul shivered. He didn't like to think of Anna in a haunted house.

When the man stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Raoul felt a sudden bolt of awareness—knowing this was the sign from the goddess that he had been waiting for.

From far away, he sent his consciousness upward, to the second story, where the roof had leaked onto the wooden floor. And he knew then that Ibena was going to give him a chance to change the balance of power in his struggle with his rival.

 

ZACH
stepped back and looked toward the balcony. Then he walked to the stairs again. “Wait here.”

Anna looked around, then scuffed her foot against the floor. “I feel…something.”

“What?”

“I don't know.” She shivered. “Something watching us.”

“Again.”

“Yes.”

“There's someone on the island?”

“I don't think so.” She swallowed hard. “I think whoever it is can see from a long distance away.”

He stared at her brow creased with worry, wishing he could reassure her. But what could he say?

“Right. What can you say? I'm just nervous.”

He didn't like the way she'd given in to him. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should listen. But he was sure nobody was here. And if the watcher was far away, what could he do?

When he spoke, he kept his voice low and calm. “I want to see what's upstairs.”

He drew the knife and climbed to the second level, holding tight to the railing and testing the steps as he went, then he paused at the top, looking over the railing at Anna. She had her hands clasped together so tightly that he could see her knuckles had whitened.

“So far so good.”

He turned back toward the hall and took a couple of steps forward, just as a cyclone erupted in one of the bedrooms. He slammed back against the wall, raising his hand to shield his face. The whirring in the air resolved itself into a loud, flapping sound that made him press against the wall as a white apparition dived at him.

“What the hell?”

Seconds passed before his brain caught up with his eyes and he saw that the flapping things were egrets. Another one flew directly toward him. Two more shot past, one squawking and dropping white feathers as it hit the banister. Two more headed for a hole in the roof.

BOOK: Beyond Fearless
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